


converge/diverge

by hydraxx



Series: wordplay [7]
Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Epistolary, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydraxx/pseuds/hydraxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Laurens never received the last ten letters Alexander Hamilton wrote to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	converge/diverge

**Author's Note:**

> converge (v): come together from different directions so as eventually to meet.
> 
> diverge (v): separate from another route and go in a different direction.

_On the evening of August 26, 1782, John Laurens leads a detachment of fifty men to the Combahee River._

_On the morning of August 27, 1782, they engage with British forces. Laurens falls in the first exchange of fire._

 

* * *

 

 _August 27, 1782_  
        You must forgive me, Dear Laurens, for writing so frequently when you are incapable of returning my regards. Implore you though I might, I know the mind of my friend is occupied still with war rather than the _fondest wishes_ of his A.  
        My own mind dwells always on the charms of my young man Philip. He is grown quite conversational of late although I scold him as his enunciation lacks prowess. I have told Eliza that when you return from the South you will teach the boy proper gentlemanly address. She laughs but she does not know your skill as I do. Under your tutelage and mine he will be the finest orator since antiquity and the first among his Generation.  
        You name me _paterfamilias_ and indeed I relish the role. Come to the North and be ensconced in the happy bosom of the family.  
        Affectionately yrs

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

_Laurens’ men return after the battle to retrieve his body._

_On August 28, 1782, Laurens is buried at the Stock plantation near the site of his final battle._

 

* * *

 

 _September 10, 1782_  
        We prepare every day for our removal to Philadelphia and the Congress. The Country calls for your service! Join us, My Dear, as a statesman and scholar to usher in a new Republic.  
        You must be always busied with the exertions of Peacemaking to have so neglected your affectionate friend. I have not had a letter from you in some months. It is said that the matter of Charlestown will soon be settled and its Defenders honoured. At that hour pray hurry your words to my hands and your _Self_ to my arms.  
        Ever yrs

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

 _September 23, 1782_  
        My Dear Laurens, I am very nearly lost. Write _quickly_ that I may know again the consolation of your friendship. Surely the reports are false. Your valiant Soul is too vital to be conquered.  
        Yrs

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

_On October 12, 1782, the Virginia Gazette publishes an anonymously authored obituary titled “Sketch of the Character of Col. John Laurens, who fell gloriously in the Defense of his Country, August 27, 1782.” The writer’s only identifier is the signature “A.”_

_On that same day, Alexander Hamilton mentions Laurens’ death in a letter to Nathanael Greene, saying, “His career of virtue is at an end. How strangely are human affairs conducted that so many excellent qualities could not ensure a more happy fate? …I feel the loss of a friend I truly and most tenderly loved.”_

 

* * *

 

 _October 12, 1782_  
        My Dearest, my Reason protests every moment of this day as I write to General Greene on your virtues and the incalculable loss we suffer by their removal. Betsey encourages me to pray for the eternal preservation of your soul. She does not know my fear that I may have contributed rather to its _damnation_. Did you believe in Hell?  
        Where now lies my dear boy? What fate befalls his gleaming eye and sparkling laughter, that bright rush of life?  
        I cannot yet mourn you, My Dear. The wound is raw.  
        I am ever yrs

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

_On December 11, 1782, the New-Jersey Gazette republishes the obituary that appeared in the Virginia Gazette._

 

* * *

 

 _December 13, 1782_  
        An obituary which I penned for publication in the Virginia Gazette has lately appeared in a paper of Jersey. They title it a sketch of your Character but no such brief essay could capture you, my Laurens, even if the British managed it once.  
        This weak levity does me no good.  
        Tomorrow my Betsey and I toast two years marital devotion. I lament still your absence on that occasion. We three might have had good fun.  
        My heart is heavy with dread that this very attachment drove you to your demise, My Dear. I know the shame you carried believing that you kept love owed to a wife. You are _wrong_. There was always a part of me for you but now it is consumed with grief and anger; anger that you sought to sever our connection when it only brought me joy. _I love you_. You had these words from my lips and from my pen at every opportunity. Did you not believe them? This is no good reason to throw yourself on the mercies of Heaven.  
        My tone is too harsh. You do not deserve my scorn. You lie too far from me to know consolation from my actions, but I offer it freely for the taking.  
        Come back to yr

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

_On January 7, 1785, Henry Laurens returns to his plantation at Mepkin for the first time since John’s death. He has his son’s body moved from the Stock plantation to the family cemetery._

_Later that year, Frances Eleanor—John’s only child, orphaned at his death—leaves England in the company of her paternal aunts to live with the Laurens family in South Carolina._

 

* * *

 

 _February 4, 1786_  
        I have it from a mutual acquaintance that your daughter has come to live with her paternal relations in Carolina. Perhaps we shall meet one day. I can give your girl a good accounting of her Papa’s virtues and defects, although the latter I may reserve for myself. I would not have your memory besmirched and even less by my own lips which _loved_ you so well in life.  
        These children of my own would know you as kin. Philip is a dashing and adventurous young man like you, and now there are two more: Angelica as precocious as her namesake, and little Alexander. They are a promising brood. You would laugh to see this sober councilor reduced to child’s play but they brighten my life, Dear Laurens. I wish you had known the joys of fatherhood in your too brief time.  
        In the evening, sometimes, I lie with the children on the grass and watch stars appear. They will know more than you about the movements of the heavens, but oh what sweet constellations crossed your face in our days.  
        Yrs in _paternal_ camaraderie

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

 _July 7, 1787_  
        Your late wishes for my career are being quickly realized. We are devising a new Constitution for our nation and I find myself at the forefront. Would that I had you by my side in the struggle. Do you remember once I compared these exploits to the birth of gods? Thus far the metaphor extends only to Zeus’ own head-ache, but without hope of a Nation springing fully formed from within. I feel more like Vulcan, toiling away in the heat of Philadelphia.  
        Five years have passed since the date of your last letter. Every day in vain I await another. My heart keeps a part reserved for Laurens, although I could never love you the way you deserved.  
        Ever yr devoted

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

 _August 27, 1792_  
        Today is ten years since you fell, My Dear.  
        I have found amongst my military gear a handkerchief of yours, elegantly embroidered by some feminine hand. It is yellow and creased but I hold it tender to my heart.  
        Did you know that I always bound your letters together with a ribbon taken from your own person? It fell to the ground one day and was forgotten amidst our exertions. It serves well still, as I know you would if your soul graced our plane. You always did bind me to the Earth and to all the vile realities of _humanity_ , but I never resented your hold. In fact I crave it.  
        This work of building our Government falls to me for some divine reason but it weighs heavy. Your counsel, and your caress would be dearly welcome these trying days.  
        I belong to the Country but my heart is ever with you--I am melancholic for want of Laurens.  
        Yrs

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

 _April 13, 1800_  
        Some nights past you came to me as I prayed so long ago, but in sleep and not in Body. As I worked a gentle hand met my shoulder and I turned to see your face. The span of fifteen years and more had not diminished the Beauty of that countenance nor its recollection. Your bright eye, your golden skin, all was illuminated by a divine light. For a moment I could not move toward you though I wished it and you smiled; how that sweet expression gladdened my heart! Then I took you in my arms. That embrace I have longed to renew for so many lonely years was bittersweet, for your form was insubstantial beneath my hands, a mere fleeting sensation of warmth. In moments I was robbed of you again.  
        We spoke no words between us, but then few were ever needed.  
        The phantom of that first gesture haunts my every hour until I grow wearied from turning in expectation. Why do you torment me, My Dear? No other spirit is so restless in my mind. Some part of me hopes that it is an omen of unheralded return although I know you would not let me _suffer_ so long were you still among us.  
        I remain, yr devoted

A Hamilton

 

* * *

 

 _July 10, 1804_  
        I never said farewell, My Dearest, but perhaps soon we shall greet each other again. Prepare yourself with open arms.  
        Yrs for ever.

A_


End file.
